


to spend a life (of endless bliss)

by Katbelle



Series: enchanted [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alien Technology, Awkward Conversations, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, True Love, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katbelle/pseuds/Katbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three hours after getting de-braceleted by a true love's kiss, Foggy is sitting in a bar. The person whose fault the whole kissing thing is comes to the rescue, because he's just such a nice guy. The whole 'true love' business is much more complicated than Foggy initially anticipated.</p><p>
  <em>"You a time traveller? Because I really need to have the last three hours of my life undone."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Better." Luke hits him on the back so hard Foggy almost ends up nose-flat on the counter. "I'm gonna make you see reason."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	to spend a life (of endless bliss)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [(just find who you love through) true love's kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104916) by [Katbelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katbelle/pseuds/Katbelle). 



> Written for [this prompt](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/5006.html?thread=10602894#cmt10602894) over at the kinkmeme.

**to spend a life (of endless bliss)**

"You need friends, Nelson."

"I have friends," Foggy bristles. "Only my friends group consists of Matt and Karen, who aren't the best people to call when I need to talk about Matt. Oh, and I think Karen likes Matt better than me, that's also a valid reason not to call her right now."

"Then why didn't you call Jess? You two are besties. Frankly, it's weird, man. I always find people who are friends with Jessica sketchy as fuck."

"Jessica would have wanted to drink. Drinking is her answer to everything, a notion I usually support wholeheartedly." Foggy swirls the amber liquid in his glass. "But I don't want to drink tonight. I wanna talk. Jess is not the best person for that."

"Whatever gave you the idea that _I'm_ the best person to talk about feelings with?" Luke asks, finally sliding onto a bar stall on Foggy's left. He grabs Foggy's glass and yanks it from his hands. "How drunk are you already?"

"I'm horribly sober," Foggy admits. "This is my first drink and I haven't even taken a sip. It's awful. Everything's awful. Everything is so awful and nobody can help. I'd love to get drunk, but the sole thought of getting drunk and then _being_ drunk makes me even more depressed."

"Ah," Luke says. "Yes, calling Jess might have been a bad idea then." He points at Foggy's wrist and then at the piece of metal lying on the counter. "I see you're not tagged anymore. Congratulations?"

"It's all your fault," Foggy murmurs. "You've suggested kissing people and you've ruined my life."

"That's an interesting way of expression your joy over finding your true love."

"Suck my dick."

"Don't you have someone to do that for you now?" Foggy groans and hides his face in his hands while Luke laughs quietly at his own joke. Oh, yes. Luke thinks he's _hilarious_. "Want me to take this back to Danny?"

"No," Foggy says. "I was tempted for about point five seconds, but I've promised Fitz I'd send it to him for further analysis if it ever came off. It did, so."

"So," Luke agrees. "What's the further analysis about?"

Foggy shrugs. "Dunno? They want to find out just how exactly this works, I think. They've determined that it somehow establishes biological compatibility of potential partners something something calibration something science. They want to find out what the criteria are, though."

"Huh," Luke says. "They're focusing on the wrong question here."

Foggy lifts his head and looks at Luke quizzically. "They are?"

"Yeah. The question that should interest them is why did this thing latch onto _you_."

"I was the person standing the closest when Danny started showing off."

"No," Luke shakes his head, "that was Jessica. You were the second-closest. So. Why didn't it jump Jess, so to say?"

Foggy sighs. He's not getting out of this one. "I presume you have a theory?"

"Yup," Luke says, the 'p' falling from his lips with a loud _pop_. "And my theory is actually deeply connected to those of your new SHIELD buddies. You can tell them that once I prove that I'm right."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"Easy." Luke grins. "Like this."

He reaches out and grabs the bracelet before Foggy can push it away. Foggy shrieks, fully expecting the damned alien metal to clasp around Luke's wrist, but... nothing happens. Foggy blinks. Once, twice. Luke puts the bracelet on his wrist himself, but the lock won't close. He lets it fall back onto the counter and grins wider. " _Ha!_ I _knew it_."

Foggy shakes his head. "Okay," he says. "Okay, what the _fuck_. Why didn't it work? What's just happened?"

"I think I've proven my theory correct."

Foggy doesn't want to get annoyed. He really, really doesn't. "Care to share with the rest of the class?" he asks.

Luke clears his throat. "For the record, I think your SHIELD buddies are right. Somewhat. This does find your best possible match or however they've phrased it. But then why didn't it get to me? Or Jessica, or Danny, at the party? Or Matt, for that matter?"

Foggy rolls his eyes. "Fine," he says. "I'll bite. Why is that, oh all-knowing Professor Cage?"

"Because I've already found my true love," Luke says triumphantly. "I've already found them and chosen them. I think this," he waves at the useless fucking alien metal, destroyer of lives as we know them, "is sort of a backup plan. You feel me? When you have someone who doesn't know or can't choose — kinda like you, man, that's sad, that's really fucking sad — this thing would find the best possible candidate. Alien matchmaker. But even a biologically best match has nothing on _choice_."

"That's a fascinating idea, Professor Cage," Foggy says sarcastically, "but you're missing an important detail here. I wasn't the only painfully single person at the party. In fact, you and Jessica were the coupled minority."

"Oh, pff." Luke waves his hand dismissively. "Sure, maybe Jess and I are the only ones in an actual relationship. But that doesn't mean we're the only ones who are completely and forever gone for someone." Something akin to disbelief must show on Foggy's face, because Luke sighs and continues, "Jessica has me, right? Right. I have Jessica, or I have Danny, depending on the kind of day Jess and I are having. Danny, Danny has Misty, and he might deny it all he wants and quietly build a creepy stalker shrine for her in his basement, but he has Misty and it's a fact. And Matt, Matt has you. Good riddance with that, Matt, but hey, his choice, I ain't gonna criticise, even if I do think his taste is abysmal."

Foggy's suddenly very glad that he's not drinking tonight, because if he were, all of that whiskey would have gone straight to his nose and would burn through the tissue there. Or he'd choke on it, that's the second distinct possibility. " _What._ "

"Man, you can't tell me it's _news_. I love Matt, but the dude's not exactly subtle, about anything." Luke shakes his head. "I see the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren't looking at him. Everyone who has eyes sees it, Jesus, Nelson. Observation skills, zero out of ten. What's your job again?"

"So what," Foggy asks, "you're telling me that Matt's infatuated with me and this stupid piece of junk reacted to that when he kissed me? _Great._ "

"'Infatuated' implies a short-term passion, I don't think it's fair to him to use it here, man. So, he was the one who kissed you," Luke more states than asks, but he's clearly fishing for a confirmation here. "I didn't realise that, probably should've, and I'm very much _not_ surprised."

"Yes, Matt kissed me, why do you think I'm sitting here all alone trying and failing to drown my sorrows instead of screwing the brains out of my 'perfect match'?" Luke has the audacity to shrug as if the answer wasn't obvious. "That's Matt, I can't go and screw--We're not--It's not like--It's _Matt_ ," he finishes lamely, as if that answered all the questions Luke might have. For Foggy it does, but he's realised a long time ago that his perception of Matt differs from that of the general population.

"Oh, Nelson. As far as I know logic isn't a compulsory module in law school, for which you should be glad, because you'd fail miserably."

"Why did I even call you."

"I've been asking myself this question ever since I came in." Luke rolls his eyes and leans closer towards Foggy. "But I'm here, so I'm gonna help you out as much as I can."

"You a time traveller? Because I really need to have the last three hours of my life undone."

"Better." Luke hits him on the back so hard Foggy almost ends up nose-flat on the counter. "I'm gonna make you see reason." He clears his throat. "First of all, this stupid piece of junk didn't react to Matt. Or it did, sort of, but it's not about him. It's about _you_. This thing," Luke points at the bracelet lying between them, "was supposed to find _your_ true love. Which means that it doesn't give a shit about Matt's feelings and that _Matt_ is objectively the perfect match for _you_."

"You're succeeding in making everything worse, Luke."

"Am I done talking?" Foggy shakes his head. "Yeah. Secondly, being objectively perfect for you doesn't necessarily mean that you have love them, that you've gotta get married to that person and adopt three kids and buy a house in the suburbs."

"I _hate_ the suburbs."

"It's still a choice you've gotta make, and as I've already told you, choice trumps biological compatibility. And thirdly — and this one you're gonna like, it's me fixing your life for you because I'm just such a nice guy — 'true love' doesn't have to mean 'romantic love'. As the leading authority on anything magic _Once_ tells me, true love can be any type of love. Familial, for example, the most memorable scene of season one was when Emma kissed her son and broke the curse--"

"Since this is supposed to find my perfect match," Foggy interrupts him rudely, but in his defence Luke's starting to sport that overly enthusiastic glassy-eyed look that means he's going to venture into a long monologue on something that he finds fascinating, "I doubt it would react well to a person who's biologically related to me."

"Okay, fair point. But mine also stands, true love doesn't have to be romantic, it can be totally platonic."

"This does make me feel somewhat better, thanks."

"Sure. Although the question now is: it can be platonic, but _is it_? Is it _really_?" Luke throws him a suspicious and very pointed look. 

Oh, fine. Two can play this game, Luke. "Another one is, why the hell did it think a _man_ could be the perfect match of another? The currently standing SHIELD theory is that this device helped to determine perfect partners to carry on the Inhuman gene, but unless I'm unaware of something, two guys cannot have biological children, so maybe it doesn't work, hmm? Maybe it's glitching. Maybe it's _broken_. It's unreliable. The results are shit."

"Or maybe you're just fishing for easy answers, because this is making you think about things you don't wanna think about," Luke shoots back. "I ain't a scientist, Foggy, I know crap about old as balls alien gizmos. Send it to your SHIELD buddies and maybe we'll get an answer, and they'll tell you that I'm right and you're wrong, because I'm always right."

Foggy's quiet for a minute. He's aware of Luke's gaze burning a hole in his head, almost as if Luke thought that if he stares long and hard enough, he'll understand what Foggy's thinking, and why is he thinking that. Or not thinking that, since this is what Luke thinks Foggy's doing.

Foggy grabs his glass and gulps down the whiskey in one go. It burns his throat and he has to shake his head to clear it. "I've got to talk to Matt."

"Finally he sees reason." Luke sighs and shakes his head. "Go. And please, for the love of God, Nelson, never call me again."

***

Matt's not opening his door.

Or maybe Matt's not opening the door to _him_.

Which shouldn't surprise Foggy, considering how awkward everything was when they saw each other last. But there's also a chance that Matt's put on his suit and went to let out his frustration on unsuspecting muggers three blocks down.

"Matt, open the door or I'll call Brett and ask him to help me break in," he threatens on the off-chance that Matt's inside and is just trying to ignore him. Which is a dick move and he owns to that.

The lock clicks open and the door opens, revealing Matt's perfectly blank expression. "Fran's sleeping, could you please keep your voice down."

"Oh." Foggy realises that he still has his hand up, fist clenched, and ready to knock on the door again. He drops his hand. "I thought you went out."

"Contrary to what you think, I don't have a death wish," Matt says and lets Foggy into his apartment.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Foggy asks as he closes the front door behind him and trails Matt to the living room. Matt's already sitting on the couch when Foggy walks in.

Matt shrugs. "Wouldn't go out tonight even if I wanted to. Too," he makes a pause to think on the proper word for a second, "distracted."

Foggy shifts uncomfortably. "About that."

"No. It's--fine."

"You kissed me."

"Yes."

"You _kissed me_ ," Foggy repeats. He fumbles for his pocket and takes out the piece of alien junk metal out of it, drops it onto Matt's new coffee table. "And then this came off."

"Yes."

"Are monosyllables the only words in your vocabulary all of a sudden?"

"What do you want me to say?" Matt asks angrily. "Yes, I kissed you. I kissed you because you'd never do it yourself, and you asked a pizza delivery guy to kiss you. You kissed _Claire_ for God's sake, in _my apartment_. And me... You never asked, not even as a joke. It just never occurred to you. I was like a non-entity beyond your perception. And it _hurt_."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's fine."

But Matt doesn't sound fine. "Is it?"

"No. But it is how it is." He gestures at the bracelet. "I was fairly certain it would come off. Now I know for sure and it's even worse, because I know that you could and you just--don't."

 _Love me_ , Foggy's brain supplies. Which isn't fair. He loves Matt. Of course he loves Matt. Maybe not exactly the way Matt'd want — or not the way Luke seems to think Matt'd want — but he does, and maybe that's the problem? "How long?" he asks instead. "How long have you," he waves his hand, "you know?"

"About a month," Matt says slowly, as if answering physically pained him, and Foggy lets out a shaky breath, "into out first year of law school."

The world comes crashing down on him, because that is not an answer he was expecting. Oh boy. Luke wasn't kidding when he said 'infatuation' was a bad choice of words. " _What_?"

"You didn't make it difficult." Matt shrugs. "And you did flirt with me the first time we met."

"Okay, no," Foggy says. "You can't put that on me. I was still my awkward college self, everything I said back then accidentally came out like a pickup line. It wasn't personal."

Matt's laugh has the tiniest note of hysteria to it. "Wow, Foggy, that... That makes me feel _so much better_ about everything. Wonderful. Not only you're not interested now, you've never been in the first place. Thank you so much for that piece of information. I don't know what I'd have done without it."

"Maybe I could, though" Foggy says quietly.

"What?"

"I didn't know," he carries on. "But I do now."

Matt cringes. "It doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"Knowing isn't the same as choosing," Matt says, equally quiet. "It's fine. Go home, Foggy. We'll pretend nothing ever happened, we'll tell Karen you kissed some random girl at Josie's and then promptly lost her number. She doesn't have to know."

"I could try."

" _No._ " Matt takes a deep breath. "No, Foggy. Maybe this is a low bar, but I respect myself enough not to want anything which you had to guilt yourself into. And I, I love you too much to let you do that to yourself."

And there it is. _Those_ three words. They've never said them before, not to each other. Foggy... Foggy finds he doesn't mind them; he rather likes the sound of them, actually. They roll easily off Matt's tongue. They sound good. "I've just rolled my eyes at you, because I didn't mean something like that," he says. "You said that I could, but didn't. Well, but maybe I will, who knows? Certainly not me, not until I try, so maybe we should. Um, try, you know? I'm--I can be open to the possibility."

"The possibility," Matt repeats, dumbfounded.

"We should start slow. How about a dinner, mhm? Candlelit dinner, good wine, that's classy, right? Like a date. How about a date."

"You want to go on a date?"

"You're my true love, apparently, that piece of alien junk said so," Foggy tells him, shrugging. "And you've saved me from being braceleted for all of eternity too. The least I can do is take you out somewhere nice, you know."

"You want to go on a date," Matt states this time and breaks into a smile. It's a good look on him, he should smile more. He looks much younger when he does.

"Well, yes, I guess. Oh, and for the record," Foggy adds, because he might have already made a huge mistake and ensured the ruin of the best friendship and his most important relationship and quite possibly also his entire life, with nothing more to lose he might as well go all in, "no suburbs. I _hate_ the suburbs."

Matt frowns and yet somehow manages not to stop smiling. His expressions are ridiculous. "I don't follow."

"It's okay," Foggy tells him, also grinning. Maybe it's a mistake, all of this. It probably is. He's fairly certain it is, there's about 99.9% chance that it'll end in a disaster and ruin. But somehow it's difficult to think of it as one. "An inside joke. Maybe you'll understand it someday."

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "True Love's Kiss" from Enchanted.


End file.
